


Control Is Only A Matter Of Opinion

by Sonnista



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: A Matter of Opinion, Anal Sex, Control, Control Issues, Dirty Thoughts, Dominance, He loves the attention, Headcanon, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mind Control, Mocking, Mutual Jealousy, Partners in Crime, Provocation, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Ship name match with the story, Smut, There are also feelings mentioned, Thiefshipping, Things may not always go as planned, but only a little this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonnista/pseuds/Sonnista
Summary: Malik always wants to be in control. Over the situation and over his environment. Over everything. And especially over his stubborn partner in crime.Thiefshipping/Headcanon
Relationships: Thiefshipping - Relationship, Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	Control Is Only A Matter Of Opinion

**Author's Note:**

> If I had to name the genre of this fic, I would say "No clue."
> 
> Anyway, enjoy reading ;)

Malik is a goddamn force of nature. A master of manipulation. Malik is not one of those people who have learned to respect certain boundaries. He takes what he wants, and he gets what he wants.

He always wants to be in control. Over the situation and over his environment. Over everything. And especially over his stubborn partner in crime, who is only mildly impressed by Malik's behavior and abilities.

About his own damn _feelings_.

It's late and night fell on them a long time ago. They met in a bar at the harbor. Soft jazz music plays in the background. Actually, they should have discussed their strategy. Their tactics. They had to work together to get what they both wanted. Both had their own reasons but the goal was the same.

The death of the nameless pharaoh.

But somehow it was all planned differently.

Someone will suffer from Malik's bad mood today.

Maybe the too attractive black-haired waitress, who smiles at Bakura again and again in the hope of a higher tip (or rather more?), despite his grim facial expression, and comes much too close to him.

She touches him now and then unintentionally. On the shoulder, on the arms, on the back. Malik snorts inwardly. As if he doesn't see through her game.

Oh yeah, definitely the waitress.

Sad day for her. With Bakura, she not only picked the wrong customer to tip, but also drew Malik's ire.

Poor knowledge of human nature produces the most beautiful victims.

She winks at Bakura, and Malik decides that she will definitely become another victim of his power. He would have a lot of fun controlling her mind. The bitch is just begging for it.

But not now.

Right now, he's trying to find a way to get Bakura's attention. Like a lovesick brat trying to seduce the boy next door.

Sometimes, when Malik is lying in his bed, he starts touching himself. He likes to imagine Bakura's pale hands touching him instead of his own, or his wet tongue sliding over his tip and sucking him off, and then he starts moaning Bakura's name. Loud and lustful, and he enjoys it, and he loves it, and he needs it. His imagination is powerful. And it brings him to climax.

It's pathetic, and humiliating, and Malik finds himself ridiculous - but well, things are what they are. What was he supposed to do?

He was the heir of an ancient clan and the owner of the Millennium Rod. Born to preserve old, long forgotten memories. An honorable man. He had to be respected. Powerful, dangerous and calculating - and totally _mesmerized_ by his partner in crime.

And his partner in crime - _he doesn't even care_.

Bakura sits at the counter, at least five chairs away from Malik, a glass of wine in front of him - Malik doesn't even know how much alcohol his partner has already had, but the amount is definitely high enough to guess that Bakura doesn't intend to pay the bill. He would be gone in the blink of an eye. As always.

The day is getting sadder and sadder for the waitress, as Malik notes with amusement.

But unfortunately, also for him. Because Bakura has just apparently actually decided to respond to this chick's flirting attempts. He holds her arm as she fills his wine glass, pulls her a little closer and whispers something that makes her smile as she nods her head enthusiastically. She twirls one of his white long strands of hair between her fingers.

Malik can see exactly how a smug smirk appears on Bakura's face, and he glances at him out of the corner of his eyes.

He takes a sip from his glass. His eyes narrow and his jaw tightens. A dark feeling rises in him. Malik would never admit it, but it was jealousy growing inside him.

He wants _this_ attention from Bakura.

Well - this game he can also join. Malik definitely doesn't plan to spend his evening sitting miserably in a corner.

And he knows that women aren't averse to him. They go for the exotic type. The one with the exercised arms and the toned abs. The golden hair and the tanned skin. If he only wanted to, he could get any of them into bed. He has the choice and doesn't need mind control for that.

The thought makes the corners of his lips twitch upward. His smirk is at least as smug as Bakura's.

It's not long before he has an attractive red-haired girl in his arms - tight clothing, appealing body, easily aroused. Another waitress. She was perfect.

She tells him he is different from all the other men. Better and more attractive, and Malik laughs because there are no men like him - only him, but he doesn't tell her that.

Again, and again, she touches him, winks at him and barely holds back her seductive remarks. She would have given herself to him and if he wanted, she would be moaning and wet under him in the mattress.

But that's not Malik's goal. It never has been.

Though Bakura seems to ignore them both, he drains his wine glass after a few minutes and murmurs something to the waitress that wipes the smile off her face and makes her eyes widen in shock. She seems angry, and Malik thinks he hears her ordering Bakura out of the bar - cute, she actually thinks she has some form of _control_ over the situation.

Malik knows the feeling. Unfortunately.

Bakura stands up and walks towards Malik with narrowed eyes and purposeful steps, grabbing him roughly by the wrist and tugging him out of the bar without paying attention to the redhead's protesting exclamations - and Malik can't help but smirk again.

Everything went according to his plan.

When they arrive at the cabin on Malik’s boat, Bakura slams the door behind them and pushes Malik onto the bed, spinning him around onto his back and kneeling over him, his knees on Malik's hips, all at a dizzying speed that reveals to Malik that his partner is angry.

"Malik," Bakura growls angrily.

Half-heartedly, Malik tries to push Bakura away from him, but Bakura fends him off with ease and eventually needs only one hand to pin Malik's hands into the mattress in a firm grip above his head. With his other free hand, he grabs Malik's chin and reveals a smirk as cold as his eyes.

"What's your problem, thief?" whispers Malik mockingly, raising an eyebrow. Excitement rises in him. He has Bakura right where he wants him. "I have to share, but you don't?"

Bakura's smirk widens and his eyes darken. A gesture that has Malik biting his lower lip. The grip on his wrists tightens until Malik hisses softly in pain as Bakura slowly leans down and whispers something in Malik's ear, his voice so rough and dark it sends a shiver down Malik's spine.

"Exactly, tomb keeper. _You’re only mine._ "

Malik is about to launch into a protest, but Bakura stops any resistance with a rough kiss that makes him tremble in just the right way.

Bakura kisses like he lives - rough, greedy, dominant and possessive, and Malik relaxes under Bakura's hard grip, giving himself completely to his partner in crime. Bakura opens the zipper of Malik's shirt, touching him with hands trained to take what he considers _his_ and yet feel so good on Malik's soft and tanned skin. With his knee he spreads Malik's legs.

Malik closes his eyes and moans softly into the kiss.

Bakura demands Malik's absolute submission. When he turns Malik over on his stomach and takes off his pants. When he pulls Malik's hips up and presses his head into the pillows with one hand. When he pulls Malik by the hair. When he slides his cock all the way into Malik's body. When he thrusts roughly and fast into Malik from behind. When he fucks Malik hard until he cum deep inside him.

And Malik gives him what he wants.

Malik is powerful, more powerful than Bakura give him credit for. But what Bakura doesn't understand is - Malik _is_ in control.

Malik smirks as Bakura completely sinks into his false sense of power. He enjoys Bakura thinking he has his submission as he fucks Malik with wild, steady thrusts.

In truth, Malik loves Bakura's unrestricted attention.

Things may not always go as planned - but Malik knows exactly how to get what he wants.

_Always_.


End file.
